The End
by CJaMes12
Summary: Someone wants to make a point and throws Athur into a world completely different to the one he knows and loves. Inspired by Supernatural's 'The End'. No Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I had this idea and just had to write it down. This was inspired by Supernatural, Seroes Five, Episode Four, entitled The End. Enjoy. Please dom't be put off if you don't watch Supernatura.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin... obviously.**

It had just been a bad day. That's what Arthur told himself as he lay under his bedclothes in his ornate four poster. He rolled over, punching his pillow into a comfier position then flopped back down. It had been immensely hot earlier that day, and when enclosed in heavy armour, that sort of heat gets to even the best of men. And it was Merlin's fault for being so cheery, and relatively cool. Always that bloody grin. An then there was the incident with that horse, just as hot as them all, rearing and nearly knocking him over. Well not nearly. When Arthur had stepped back to avoid those flailing hooves, he'd tripped, much to Merlin's amusement. Merlin and his air jacket and thin-cloth clothes. He didn't even feel the need to remove his neckerchief!  
Still overheating, Arthur kicked his bed clothes off and glared accusatorially at the tray Merlin had left when be sped out of the room. The servant has made some quirky comment when on his exhausted daze, Arthur had knocked over his goblet, spilling wine over his food. Arthur had thrown his goblet, hard, still with remnants of liquid, at Merlin. Due to the proximity, Merlin hadn't had the time to dodge and received a hard metal object to his forehead with the bonus of very fine, oaked red wine splashing into his eyes.  
Merlin had grabbed the plate and goblet and fled as Arthur ordered him to leave, and return in the morning with more respect and his sense of humour tightly under reign. And he was left with guilt gnawing at his insides.  
It might be hunger, he reasoned. He never did eat that evening. But he had a feeling that he was actually feeling guilty over his servant.  
"Damn it." he groaned, pulling his pillow over his head. Should he go apologise? God no, it was the middle of the night, the oaf was probably asleep and his princely pride couldn't have him apologising to a servant.  
Merlin was more than that though. Wasn't he? Through thick and thin, he was always greeted by his cheeky smile or his poor attempts at insults. He was acting as a pillar of strength during his father depression. Ever since Morgana's attempted invasion, he'd put on an even more forced sense of cheeriness and Arthur found himself grateful.  
In the morning. In the morning, he'd find a way to apologise with out looking soft.

He must have drifted off, as he had a distinct impression of waking up. He pulled himself out of the darkness and opened gritty eyes. He saw the weak sunlight, filtering through the window and groaned. Damn Merlin! He was late. Again.  
But then, who opened the curtains? They'd definitely been closed the night before.  
Arthur pulled himself out of bed and dragged himself to the window. He peered blearily out of it into the grey morning. It wasn't morning. The sun in the sky... It was nearly sunset once again. Had he slept the whole day? He'd had appointments! Merlin!  
Wait a moment. He looked out over Camelot. Yesterday, everything has been bright, colourful, greeting the sun and the warmth. Today was monochrome, as if all life had been leached from the town before him. The streets were empty. No not empty. He could make out slumped, dirty figures at the base of houses. What had happened?

He dressed quickly, despite Merlin's belief, he was quite capable, and left his room.  
If he'd paused longer, he'd have noticed the layer of dust over everything, the spiders that had made themselves a home in his room. He'd have noticed the build up of filth and most importantly, that the tray that Merlin had left and the wine stain on his oak table were now gone. The room had been uninhabited for years.

He ran down the corridors, feeling the atmosphere pressing down on him, suffocating. His footsteps echoed, pounding on the flagstones. The life that was the castle was gone.  
He heard other foot falls and instinctively pushed himself against a wall. Something felt wrong.  
Knights paraded into his vision, but they weren't his knight. They were stiff, to attention, even within the castle. Instead of being clad in the Pendragon crest, they bore midnight blue tablet with a black elder tree embroidered across their chests. Their visors obscured their faces as they searched for the only source of disturbance in the ghost castle. Their eyes passed over Arthurs hiding spot before as a unit, they moved on.  
Arthur stood, presses into his alcove, paralysed in shock. What the hell?  
He needed to find out what was going on. His gut told him that the throne room was a bad idea and so, as stealthily as possible, wishing that he'd grabbed his sword, he traced the well known path to the next best place for answers. Gaius' chambers.

The smell of neglect hit his nostrils as soon as he opened the old wooden door. Gaius' chambers looked as the always did, filled with books, jars, plants... Except the plants were dead. Long dead. Most of them were well on their way to full decomposition. Some of the jars were empty, others filled with blackened and congealed potions. One lay, shattered by Gauis' usual work bench. On the bench a book lay open, the exposed pages faded and curling.  
This time Arthur saw the thick skin of dust covering all, heard the snick of rodents claws, saw the spiders, hanging fat on their glistening webs.  
Feeling ill, he uncertainly made his way to Merlin's room, stepping over the broken glass, his footsteps echoing unnervingly against the planks.  
He climbed the steps and winced as the door creaked inwards.  
Merlin's room had been stripped. There was no hint of anyone having lived there except for the bed, neatly made, clad in dust only disturbed by the paw prints of rats and other small mammals that had made their bed where Merlin once had. The only disruption in the room was a plank that had been torn up and now lay haphazardly across the floor, as if it had been flung from it's place.  
Unable to remain in the room, Arthur turned and left sharply.  
What on earth? What sort of enchantment was this? It was as if Merlin and Gaius had been absent for years! And those soldiers that weren't his... This was definitely Camelot, Gaius' chambers had proved that. But where was everyone? Where was...?  
As the thought hit him, he sped up. He had to check, to see that she was alright in all of this madness.

Night was falling as he escaped the castle without detection. He stole across the courtyard silently, a shadow with his heart pounding in his throat.  
It was the same Courtyard he crossed daily, but in the shadows, and with the unnatural still, it seemed alien.  
There wasn't even a lit torch as he left the courtyard and darted to his loves house.  
The shadows stretched across it leered at him, filling him with foreboding. The house which usually seemed inviting, usually glowing with her presence was now, just like everywhere else in this godforsaken place, dead and empty.  
Something was trying to prevent him from reaching out, from touching that door, from pushing it open... But he pushed the force down, as one would swallow an unpleasant taste, and entered his beloved's house.  
Eyes seemed to watch him from the shadows, piercing his skin, speeding his heart. Dread seeped through him. The house was just as empty as everywhere else he'd been, just as decrepit. Except here, there were signs of its old inhabitant, as if she'd left in a hurry, like Gaius. There was a meal half eaten on a table, her dresser was open, stripped of it's content. That was promising. If she'd had time to grab her clothes, it couldn't have been too bad.

The lack of people was beginning to scrape away at his already raw nerves. Some deity with a cruel sense of humour decided to answer his unvoiced prayer for a presence, with a troop of guards.

They burst into the small house, knocking the herbs that hung by the door from their perch and knocking over one of Gwen's chairs.

They all levelled their swords at him, and he had no choice but to raise his hands in surrender. The one he assumed to be their leaders stepped forward, angling his sword. All he had to do was extend his arm to cut Arthurs throat.

Arthur desperately searched for a way out. He spied a carving knife, on the side with some other utensils. He was preparing to make a jump for it when a man yelled.

The formation of the group disintegrated as a man at the rear collapsed.

There was a flash of green light and another man collapsed.

"Emrys!"

One of the men shouted before also being struck down with that green light. Arthur took advantage of the distraction to lunge for the knife.

Clasping its handle, he spun around, wielding it as a weapon. No matter how small, any weapon is better than nothing.

In theory. He doubted any weapon would help in the face of the thing now standing in the doorway.

The figure was hooded, clad in a dark blue cloak, with a deep cowl that kept his face in shadow. The air sat heavy around the figure. The bodies of most of the troops radiated out from his.

Arthur took a moment to admire the last man standing who pointed his sword unwavering at the sorcerer.

There were two small flashes of gold from within that cowl and the last man standing was sent careening off his feet, to the floor.

The sorcerer didn't even look at Arthur, just crossed the room, his cloak brushing over the bodies.

"I wouldn't bother."

The sorcerer's voice was oddly familiar, in an abstract way. He didn't look in Arthur's direction, but crouched by the final body, pushing the helmet off the face. "I just want to know what you're doing in this house."

Arthur didn't lower his insignificant weapon. It wasn't in his nature.

"Why would you care?"

The figure straightened, sighing, back still turned.

"If the Jack-asses got you, I'd never find out."

"I meant why'd you care about this house?"

There was a pause.

"It's a friends."

The figure turned and walked towards Arthur. He stopped a few feet away.

Arthur stood his ground in the face of the sorcerer who stood before him, radiating power. If he lunged, he was sure that he could at least harm the sorcerer. But something held him back. Something about this man, this killer, was familiar.

"I was looking for someone."  
The man hissed. "Fool. You should know better to come _here_."

Arthur stepped forward, challenging the man.

"Why?"

From the cowl, Arthur could swear that the man was looking down his nose at him. He _was_ taller than Arthur. The sorcerer was staring at him, silently. Arthur had the distinct impression of cogs whirring behind the shadows.

The figure shifted his head slightly, and that slight movement cleared the dark within the hood and Arthur could see clearly who it was under the hood.

"Merlin?"

**A/N If this story genertes interest then I shall update as soon as possible. This story isn't intended to be more than five chapters at most.**

** For those who do watch Supernatural, I have a poll. We have five options to go down in this story as you've all probably figured out what's happened already, **

**1) A not-so-random magical event putting Arthur in this predicament.**

**2) Closer to the Supernatural storyline, a random Angel did this to Arthur to make a point.**

**3) Have Castiel, in his vessel of the time be the Angel responsible.**

**or finally**

**4) Throw all rules of linear timelines out of the window and have Jimmy!Castiel being the angel responsible for Arthurs position.**

**Please vote, even anonymous votes will count, and give me any opinions on my work. **

**P.S Please point out any grammar or spelling mistakes also.**

**CJaMes12**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N What do you know! I find myself updating already! Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, and I feel that I should say that I don't own Supernatural.**

Arthur looked up into that familiar face, those high cheekbones, the pale skin and those blue eyes now glaring down at him. It was Merlin. But at the same time it wasn't.  
Those blue eyes narrowed.  
"You're Arthur." He said Arthur had no clue how to respond to this statement, just stood there, knife still raised, his brow creasing into a frown.  
Merlin copied the expression, but his had a level of steel and power Arthur had never imagined the servant capable of producing.  
"But you're not the Arthur I knew. How is this possible?"  
Arthur, stomach still twisting at this formidable figure, growled in response.  
"I don't know."  
Merlin scrutinised Arthur, his blue eyes held no trace of Merlin Arthur knew and this scared him more than Arthur could imagine. This is what magic had done to his friendly, wise-cracking manservant. All of his father's words regarding the corruption of evil came back to him. Why did Merlin try to learn magic anyway? He knew firsthand the trouble it could cause.  
Cold gripped insides as something occurred to him, was Merlin responsible for the situation outside? He eased this thought away, of course he wasn't he knew Merlin and not even magic can twist someone that badly.  
"We need to go."  
Merlin's voice fell muted upon the dead air and drew Arthurs attention away from Merlin's hands as one reached towards him.  
He felt Merlin's surprisingly strong grip around his forearm and tried to draw away in surprise. The grip tightened an Arthur felt himself being pulled in all directions as wind rose around them, somehow not affecting their surroundings.  
The wind formed an impenetrable wall before dying away. The wind fell to reveal completely different surroundings.  
They were in a forest, big an area that Arthur recognised. But then, even the most familiar forest could look alien in the arching shadows and heavy gloom that hung about them.  
He rounded on Merlin, instinctively preparing himself to berate the man when the obvious use of powerful magic hit him. He stopped himself before he'd begun as Merlin's hooded head remained pointed away from him, slightly bowed. It reminded Arthur of a hunter listening for game amongst the other sounds of the forest and Arthur had the deep impression that Merlin was scanning the surrounding area. Yet another display of magic.  
Seeming satisfied, Merlin nodded then began to walk. "Follow me." it was a sign if how completely out if his depth Arthur felt that it never occurred to him to disobey.  
As they walked through the undergrowth, the air seemed to lighten, the operative are diminishing the further they went.  
Arthur spotted what he took for firelight in the distance, flickering amongst the trees and assumed that it symbolised thief destination. But Merlin proved him wrong. He veered to the right, keeping the fire to his far left. When they reached the clearing that Merlin came to a halt in, the fire was a small flicker, a candle in a shadowed room.  
In this clearing was a hut. It was simplistic and rough but lacked the foreboding emitted by the homes in Camelot. On the contrary, it seemed inviting.  
Merlin led him inside. The single room was divided, almost down the middle. The left side was neat and tidy, almost Spartan, a neat bed standing alone, with a trunk at its foot. On the left, there was almost a discernable line where the organised mess began. At first glance, the array of herbs, potions and charms appeared disordered, but even to Arthurs magically untrained eyes, he could make a method in the madness.  
The right-most wall was shelved and filled with books, some of them reminiscent if Gaius' collection. A workbench sat ready on the far wall, bare, save for one thick tome which sat in prominence.  
Arthur turned to Merlin for explanation, but he was beaten to it.  
"I am required. You stay here."  
Arthur stared in disbelief at Merlin.  
"Wha-"  
Merlin looked, almost dispassionately at Arthur.  
"You would stir up to many questions."  
With that, he turned, in one smooth movement removing his cloak and hanging it from a peg by the door and leaving the hut.  
Arthur had one glimpse of the back of Merlin's dark, also hooded shirt as he tried to follow him before, without assistance, the door swung shut. There was a distinctive sound of the door locking; leaving Arthur alone in the sorcerer's room, with small candle that had flickered into life upon Merlin's entry. It was a small candle, but it somehow managed to illuminate all corners of the room, an effect Arthur recognised as magic.  
Merlin. What had happened to the man? The friend of many, a sorcerer, why could change things so drastically? And knew? Merlin said the Arthur he knew... He'd missed the past tense at the time but now it hung over him. What the hell happened? And just as importantly,  
"What am I doing here?"  
There was a strange sound, like a flutter if wings and a gravelly voice behind him spoke.  
"I brought you here."

**A/N Some of you will know exactly who that is. **

**Others, who haven't watched Supernatural, I am taking it upon myself to explain the situation and describe the character the best I can. However I don't believe that his involvement is big enough to merit this story being placed in the crossover section.**

**I have the next chapter written, the rest of the story planned, but I will not publish until Sunday evening, as I have to knuckle down this weekend, produce three essays, a written project and an artistic project by Monday!**

**Looking forwar dto teh new episodes of Merlin _and_ Supernatural this Saturday, have a good weekend all.**

**Feed back is appreciated. :**

**CJaMes12**


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur span around, the knife he still grasped pointing at the man who'd materialised behind him.  
Arthur paused to take in the strangeness of the figure. He didn't look like a threat, he was the same height as Arthur, with short, light brown hair, and a discernible expression, focussed through sharp blue eyes that seemed to stare through him. His clothes were just as unimpressive, if not more so. He wore no armour, just some sort of long tan jacket made of a loose, thin fabric over another jacket which was blue and a pair of trousers that were a similar colour. Some sort of long thin, (possibly silk?) scarf was tied loosely about his throat over a white collared shirt which was open at the top. Arthur had never seen such clothes before, they seemed to be made of fabric even finer than his and he was a prince! He has an overall dishevelled look that belied the sense of power emanating from him.  
"Who are you?" Arthur managed to speak without his voice trembling, feat, even though it was expected from him, that he was secretly proud of. Part of h was amazes that he was handling circumstances quite well. Not that Merlin has given him a chance to lose his temper yet.  
The man replied in a near monotone, not even a flicker of an expression making its way across his face.  
"I am an Angel of the Lord."  
Arthur wasn't religious, but even he knew the holier-than-thou-art reputation that angels held. Not to mention the fact that they were fiction. And here was a man, in ruffled clothes, claiming to be one.  
"You got a name?" Arthur didn't lower the knife, still keeping it in line with the 'angel'.  
"Castiel."  
Okay that wasn't a name he knew. If someone was claiming to be an angel, shouldn't he go for one of the most obvious names like... Well it's not as if was expected to know the names of angels.  
"And you expect me-"  
The muscles around Castiel's eyes twitched infinitesimally and a light flashed.  
The candle's glow seemed to intensify into a bright, white light, and was accompanied by a rumble of what sounded like thunder.  
During that brief moment of strong light, Arthur could clearly see the shadow of a pair of strong, impressive wings splashed against the wall.  
The effect faded and Arthur was left facing the nondescript man who now possessed a menacing air he hadn't before.  
Arthur swallowed with difficulty.  
"You could have achieved that with magic."  
"You know I didn't."  
And Arthur did. His gut was telling him that this man, this angel, was genuine. The concept scared him slightly. Great, add it to the list.  
"What I this place?" Arthur croaked.  
The angel stared him straight in the eyes.  
"The future. Five years from your time."  
Arthur felt clammy. This was what was to come? But Camelot, Gwen... Merlin. His reign was destined to become this? His people brought to his knees, his beloved missing and one of the best men he knew reduced to evil.  
"Why-"  
"To make a point." Castiel's voice was sharp as he replied. "This is what happens if you continue to refrain from claiming the throne."  
Arthur bristled, "Are you telling me to usurp my father?"  
Castiel tilted his head, "I'm merely advising you, and showing you the consequences of your inaction."  
Arthur took a step forward, raising the knife, "I will not betray my father!"  
Castiel looked at him evenly, those eyes boring into his.  
"Even if that's what's best for your kingdom?"  
With those words still ringing in the air, Castiel vanished in a flutter of wings.  
Arthur stood there, threatening the now empty air, breathing hard as if exerted.  
'Best for his kingdom.' He had a duty to his people, but he couldn't betray his father, his King. Castiel was wrong; there must be a way to avert this future, without an act of treason.  
He heard a click and recognised it as the door, which had somehow unlocked itself. The door swung gently, hanging invitingly open.  
Steeling himself, Arthur marched to the door, pulled it sharply open and passed through it.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Slight delay here, but I think we all knew that my run of updating everyday wasn't going to last. I'm probably not going to update again until next Monday evening at the earliest, but here's a nice long one to tide you over**

**This chapter was hard to write, but I hope that you all enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't earn Merlin. Or Supernatural. Obviously.**

Arthur stood for a moment on the porch outside the shack, surveying his surroundings, Castiel's words rolling through his head. And he needed to know. After ascertaining that there was no one else there, he began to walk on the direction of the light. It was a mere flicker in the distance, but he went to it as a moth to a flame. His surroundings were inconsequential compared to his need to understand.  
He paused on the brink of the circle of light. He could hear voices, and a child's laughter. Peering thorough the bushes he could see that the source of light was a large bonfire an could make out silhouettes around the flames.  
The light illuminated a small village, made up of huts and tents. It wasn't a small settlement, but it was a makeshift one. He could see the children playing by a tent with a large wolf like dog, completely at home.  
"Dinner!" called a voice Arthur recognised. A voice which called to his very soul, one he was so relieved to hear. Gwenivere.  
That voice of a nightingale continued, "Will you be joining us Merlin?"  
Her voice was filled with sisterly affection and concern. Did she not know that Merlin was a sorcerer? Or did she not care? He watched her beautiful face slip into a frown.  
"Starving yourself won't help. I insist."  
He watched her mouth, glowing in the orange light frame these words. He'd been so worried. He stepped from the bushes.  
"I told you to stay put."  
Merlin's voice was powerful and broke through Arthur's haze.  
"Since when have I ever done what you say Merlin?" the retort slipped out naturally, and surprised Arthur. It almost made it seem as if nothing had changed between the two of them. As if the magic made no difference.  
There was an anger in Merlin's expression however, titbit was tinged with something else. As a prince, he had to be able to read people. It was an essential talent when it came to treaties and even everyday conversation. Just talking genially to a visiting Nobel could be a dangerous as walking on egg shells. Except with Merlin. Arthur could say what he liked. Because of this, Arthur had never really tried to read his manservant. Except when he was being surprisingly enigmatic or uncharacteristically wise.  
But Arthur was sure that there was sadness tinging the anger coming from his friend. His friend. Even with magic, Arthur saw him as a friend.  
Arthur watched Merlin's eyes dart to his right, to Gwen. Arthur shifted his focus to her too and saw her mouth open in shock, her eyes conflicted.  
"Arthur?"  
"Um, yes."  
Something felt awkward. A moment ago, his every fibre of his being had wanted to throw itself at Gwen, but something imperceptible about her, the way she stood maybe, held him back.  
"How is this possible?"  
Gwen looked up at Merlin who was regarding Arthur.  
"I don't know."  
"I'm from the past." Arthur decided to add helpfully, walking forward into the conversation carefully.  
"Obviously." Merlin commented, a trace of a sneer in his voice. One that was usually reserved by Arthur for use when Merlin acted like an idiot. It was strange hearing his intonations reflected back at him, from Merlin of all people.  
"The question is how."  
"Oh, a, uh, magical creature sent me." he figured that 'angel' would be a step too far.  
A flicker of confusion crossed Merlin's face. This was one of the few emotions this Merlin had displayed since Arthur had met him. Was magic responsible for changing the once expressive man?  
Arthur became increasingly aware that Merlin was a good head taller than him. Had that always been the case?  
"A magical creature?"  
"Yeah. He said that he'd sent me here to make a point."  
Merlin's eyes narrowed in thought. For some reason, Gwen refused to meet his eyes, but kept her gaze lowered.  
"Where's food?"  
A small blonde child had grabbed the hem of Gwen's tunic top and tugged it. The child's friends stood Benin it, doing thief best to look forlornly hungry.  
For some reason, Gwen shot a glance at Arthur before replying.  
"Coming right up. Have you washed your hands?"  
Gwen was presented with a dozen sets of clean fingers. She laughed and fell into what was obviously a routine of serving up the food with the help of a few of the other women. Arthur watched with Merlin, all of his questions stuck in his throat. Gwen's eyes flicked to him every few moments. She seemed nervous which added rigidity to her actions and she ladled stew onto the children's plates. The children retreated to sit on logs placed around the fire and as if given a cue, all of the adults began to queue, each giving a nod of thanks as they received their food. After they had cleared, she beckoned to him and Merlin. Arthur moved forwards and tried to catch Gwen's eye over the bowl, but she furiously refused to look in his direction, looking down into the pot instead.

Feeling somewhat rejected, Arthur stepped aside allowing Gwen to push a bowl upon Merlin who grimaced but stuck to Arthur as he moved away, directing him to a space big enough to house the two of them. Arthur was again aware of the stares he was receiving. He met them, looking into their eyes and wondered. How many of these innocent looking people possessed magic?

They sat down on a log. Arthur pushed his stew around his bowl with his spoon.

"What happened?" He asked quietly, keeping his eyes on his food. When Merlin didn't respond immediately, Arthur glanced to his left. Merlin's bowl had vanished and he was instead fiddling with a large stick which had been in the fringe of the fire, refusing to look at Arthur. After a long while,

"Uther's hold on the throne was tenuous. And some people saw your refusal to take the throne as weakness."

"I'm not going to betray my father!" Arthur spat angrily. However, inside, he knew that his protestation wasn't as strong as it had been earlier, with Castiel.

Merlin finally looked around in surprise, "I never said you would. Either way, one of the leaders, Rex, from the east," Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, "he brought an army. Not a normal army but one powered by sorcerers." Merlin spat the term, startling Arthur. Wasn't Merlin a sorcerer? "They laid siege to the castle. Killed many of the villagers. What we didn't see coming, what I didn't see coming was the rat."

"The rat?"

"A sorcerer snuck into the castle and, well... got to you."

Arthur frowned, thinking over Merlin's words, factoring in the way his voice broke over saying them. His gaze had been determinedly tracking patterns into the ground as Merlin spoke, but he looked up in shock.  
"I died?"  
Really he'd known it, with Gwen's reaction to him and the past tense... And Merlin knew that he knew so didn't bother dignifying his exclamation with a response. Instead he tossed his tick into the fire. He watched it burn, the red reflecting in his dark eyes.  
"I wasn't there. I didn't see it coming." his voice was layered with something akin to buried guilt. "I was considered as loyal to you, so they also tried to kill me. I got out." there was a pause, laden with the events of the past yet to be spoken. "Gaius didn't."  
These words hit Arthur like stones. One after the other, sinking deep into his gut. He forced words from his dry mouth.  
"What happened?"  
For a moment, thought Merlin wouldn't answer him. "I ran to his chambers, but by the time I got there, he was gone, his work shattered on the floor." Arthur recalled the beaker he'd found in Gaius' workshop. It hadn't been touched in five years...  
"I ran to find him. He wasn't in the dungeons. They'd decided on quick and decisive action."  
Merlin didn't say anymore, but he didn't need to.  
"And then you decided to learn magic?"  
Arthur tried to make his voice understanding, but he didn't think that he quite managed. Merlin didn't answer at first, remaining crouched towards the fire, an orange tinted silhouette.  
Then at long last, "Yes."  
"What about Gwen?" Arthur looked at the hut she'd vanished into.  
Merlin leaned back, rubbing his knees, "Well you have to understand, it was common knowledge that you two were together which made her a target. I took her with me when I fled. I returned later for our possessions. There were... Complications."  
Merlin said that hesitantly, apparently unsure as to entree this was information he deemed Arthur should have.  
"Gwen was considered 'spoiled', that's why she stayed in the forest with me rather than setting up in another village. Word travels."  
Arthur frowned in anger, "Spoiled? How dare the- what did they-"  
"She was pregnant."  
Merlin's quiet but forceful words cut through his anger as a knife through butter.  
Now shock undulated in his gut.  
"Wha..."  
Arthur saw that small blonde boy run from Gwen's hut to join his friends who were calling him over.  
"C'mon Arthur!" one of the children cried, clearly impatient.  
Arthur watched his son- his Son!- join the group and put the shouter in a headlock.  
"He's a good kid." Merlin acknowledged from behind Arthur, but Arthur barely heard him. He wad staring at the boy, numerous indescribable feeling writhing inside of him. He took in the boys hair, darker than his own, but pale skin. He looked like his father, a man who bow wanted to rush over to the boy and protect him from all thing out to hurt him. The lad turned and Arthur could make out the brown eyes behind the mischievous twinkle, so recognisable as he saw them so often in Gwen. He made to stand but was restrained by Merlin's hand on his arm.  
Arthur made to wrench his arm away and confront the man, but a shout echoed through the encampment.  
"They've returned!"  
The reaction was immediate. The women streamed from the houses, the men stood in expectation. The children stopped playing, heads all turned in the direction if the shout, as startled fawns. Even the grip on Arthurs arm lifted as Merlin stood, looking into the distance, his cold blue eyes focused and determined.  
Men entered the clearing. Arthur recognised Gwaine, Percival and, was that Leon? He looked do different without his uniform.  
His son ran to the group and was scooped up by the man at the head.  
"Hello twerp." Lancelot grinned hugging the lad who clung to his neck affectionately. "Not been up to mischief have you?"  
As his son shook his head playfully, Arthur felt jealousy curl around his stomach and heart. He watched angrily. That was his son. He should be the one greeting him, not Lancelot. Some small part of him knew that this was stupid. He hadn't been part if the boys life, heck he hadn't actually fathered him yet. But the sense of possessiveness squashed this sense and only Merlin's tightened grip on his shoulder withheld him.  
This was a sign of how Merlin had changed in his perception. He'd have shrugged old Merlin off by this point. Uncorrupted Merlin.  
He saw Lancelot, still clutching his son slip through the crowd and stride up to Gwenivere. She had a strange smile on her face. As Arthur watched, Lancelot closed the distance and lowered his head to Gwen's. Before this eyes, Arthur witnessed one his knights kiss the love of his life. And he saw her respond. With relish.  
She then seemed to collect herself, pulling away. Lancelot tilted his head in query and Arthur watched as Gwen looked his way, mouth moving. Lancelot turned and saw Arthur.  
A number if emotion flickered over the ex-knights face as Gwen continued to talk into his ear.  
By the time Lancelot had set his son down on the floor and started to walk over, the expression was one of set determination.  
Little Arthur ran ahead, to Merlin,  
"Hey look Uncle! Lance is back!"  
Merlin laughed, the first hint of old Merlin he'd seen all night, and replied cheerily,  
"Yeah I can see that. We've got to talk though. Why don't you go help your mum?"  
Arthur watched the boy skip away. He'd been less than a metre from him. If he'd reached out, he could have ruffled his hair. The boy danced around Lancelot and ran to Gwen who accepted him but kept her attention on Arthur and Lancelot.  
Arthur knew that his anger coil be read through his eyes bug Lancelot stared back proudly, the dame determination that Arthur had seen Jen he tried out as a knight of Camelot that first time all those years ago. The extra five years could be read in his face, the Flint I. His eyes, the gauntness in his cheeks. The old dream had been replaced with world-weariness. Somehow this change penetrated the red mist and Arthur felt himself calming slightly. A small part of him whispered, 'at least Gwen hasn't been alone these past years.  
"Arthur? Is this possible?"  
It was Leon, backed by Gwaine and Percival who were all staring at Arthur in shock and recognition.  
"He's from the past." Merlin explained shortly. The men showed their respect and trust in Merlin then by accepting his words and nodding. Lancelot's jaw tightened as he realised the implications regarding Gwen.  
"When?" asked Gwaine, frowning.  
Merlin raised an eyebrow at Arthur, inviting him to talk. He cleared this throat.  
"Um. A few months after Morgana's take over. With the immortal army."  
"And what, you just showed up here?"  
"Pretty much."  
Gwaine whistled, taking it all in stride. "Talk about culture shock. D'you know why?"  
Suddenly Arthur felt as if he was back with his men in his own time. He could over look the differences, the hardness in their eyes, the lines and scars on their faces and recognise his men. His friends.  
He couldn't look Lancelot in the eye however and concentrated on the other men. He couldn't look at Merlin either. Too much had changed.  
"Castiel said it was to make a point."  
"Castiel?" Merlin's emotionless voice shattered the illusion.  
"That's what he called himself."  
A silence rose between the group as nothing else seemed fit to follow the statement.  
Until.  
"Merlin we have it."  
Suddenly Arthur was pushed from the conversation as Merlin swept between them to Leon. Leon passed him a pouch and began to talk to Merlin about the mission, too quietly for Arthur to hear. The others joined in to contribute their input until Arthur stood aside from the group, discarded. Almost.  
Gwaine sidled up to him.  
"Good to see you Princess."  
"You too Gwaine."  
"Castiel's the name of an angel."  
Arthur did a double take.  
"You're religious?"  
Gwaine seemed to be weighing his response.  
"I grew up with it. I was never sure how much to take seriously. Quite a bit apparently if this guy was actually an angel." Gwaine phrased it as a question, head tilted curiously.  
"So he claimed."  
"Did he have wings?"  
Arthur remembered the great shadows with awe.  
"Yes. Of sorts. I could see their shadows."  
Gwaine's eyebrows rose into his hairline as he guided Arthur to a different log by the fire to sit.  
"Cool! Was he like a sissy angel? You know, wearing a dress with a harp?"  
Arthur had to restrain a laugh.  
"Anything but. He was..." Arthur searched for the word, "formidable."  
"Makes sense, he's s'posed to kill a helluva lot of people come the apocalypse."  
Gwaine's eyes were trained on the group they'd left while Arthur digested this snippet of information.  
"You dying really changed him you know."  
Arthur looked where Gwaine was indicating, to Merlin.  
Arthur looked at his old friend and sighed. "Yeah."  
"No. You don't get it. Today's a good day. Probably your presence, but he showed more emotion on those few minutes then he has in the past few years." Gwaine ignored Arthur's head spin and continued, "Except with mini-princess, but that's the exception which proved the rule. If Arthur's not there, he closes up like a pub at closing time."  
Arthur looked back at Merlin who had his head bowed in serious conversation with the knights, the shadows highlighting the bones of his face, making him look skeletal and hiding his eyes. Magic, Arthur cursed, can really change a man.  
As he watched, Merlin, pouch in hand, swept from the clearing and into the shadows.  
"What's going on?"  
There was an air of action around the camp, anticipation that showed in everyone's stances, their feverish eyes and muted conversation.  
"It's all going down tomorrow."  
Arthur looked at Gwaine who in turn was tensed, as if ready for a fight.  
"What?"  
"That gem we just retrieved, I fit understand the ins and outs, but the general picture is that it's a magical artefact which means that we'll finally be able to fight back. Properly."  
Gwaine licked his lips and looked across at Arthur. Taking in his nonplussed expression, he continued.  
"Merlin's strong, but Jackass has a supply if counterfeit power. The sorcerers under his control, the stronger he is. Merlin's power has grown, exponentially so, but Jackass instigated his own purge, bringing all sorcerers to his realm, willingly or unwillingly. Merlin's been able to keep us shielded, but any outright attack would be suicide, despite the whole 'Emrys' thing."  
"Emrys?"  
But Gwaine just waved a hand dismissively.  
"Tonight, we prepare."  
Arthur tried to sort through his roiling feelings and failed, instead addressing an issue that still grated.  
"But Merlin, magic..."  
Gwaine laughed, but it was a sound empty of mirth.  
"Yeah, I know, it took a while for me to get used to it too. But I think it's all he has left." There was heaviness in his voice that mourned Merlin's condition. Gwaine sharply looked across to Arthur.  
"Magic isn't evil Arthur. A sword can be used to protect as well as wound. It depends on the wielder."  
"But-" but Arthur quietened. He wasn't going to contradict Gwaine when these beliefs must have been all the camp had to justify the depths they had fallen to. Who was he to barge in and start an argument before the final battle? He knew better than most the importance of morale.  
That night as he lay down to sleep on the floor of Gwaine's hut, the knights words chased each other around his head and strangely enough began to make sense.  
He rolled over, grunting. That's impossible, that much power corrupts. But a sword gives a person power over the unarmed, his mind returned to the analogy.  
Arthur sat with his controversial thoughts, letting the debate rage until he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.

**A/N That's me over and done with. I enjoyed writing this, and I hope I displayed Arthur okay.**

**It's hard to imagine how Arthur would react in this situation but I hope I portrayed it belivably.**

**Please review. I love opinions.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Here is the penultimate part of my story, or i may include an epilogue if there's interest. I warn you that this is un beta-ed**

**Disclaimer: Yes, I own all of this... I'm just that awesome.**

Despite his restless night, Arthur woke at first light, assisted by Gwaine's shirt which was thrown at him.  
Arthur threw it back with an expert flick o the wrist, saddened.  
For a brief moment between waking and Gwaine's shirt crashing into his face, he' almost beliefs that those events the night before had been a dream. That he bedding was hard because he'd rolled off the bed. That he really should climb back into bed because if Merlin found him on the floor, he'd never hear the end if it.  
Alas, Arthur found himself standing in line for food at first light amongst all the other refugees that made up the encampment. Well the men at any rate. The women were standing to the side, with the demeanour of one's about o send their husbands into battle.  
Well that's what's happening. Arthur thought and his stomach clenched at the sight of Lancelot and Gwen by their hut.  
"You don't have to come."  
Arthur turned to see Merlin clad in once uncharacteristically dark clothes which contrasted against his pale skin, especially with his shock of dark hair.  
Attached to his belt was the pouch that Arthur had seen the night before. Merlin's hand moved protectively over it when he saw where Arthur was looking an Arthur's gaze was met with steely blue eyes shining with determination.  
"Yes I do."  
Merlin just nodded, accepting this. Arthur groaned in frustration. His manservant used to be an open book but now, not only was he closed, he was padlocked.  
"How can you have changed so much!"  
Merlin raised his head and achieved a haughty expression he couldn't have pulled off five years previously.  
"Events change a man. It's what makes us human."  
"What's human about an emotionless shell?"  
Merlin's eyes narrowed imperceptibly.  
"No, what's inhuman is a person who see's the worst and remains unchanged. A coin losing one of it's sides is life changing. I fear the man who can lose his purpose and remain unshaken."  
Merlin's force and tone threw Arthur. What was this talk of coins? For a second there, he could see his old Merlin. But it was more like he recognised this man in his memories of Merlin at his wisest.  
The idea of this man already present in the Merlin he knew was unsettling.  
Merlin took his silence as the end of the conversation, sweeping away to the other men.  
"Wouldn't it be bad if you died? In the future I mean."  
Gwaine stood by his elbow. Arthur hadn't heard him approaching.  
"Or do you reckon that good old Cassie will prevent you're dying."  
"I hadn't thought about it." Arthur told him, completely honestly. "Either way, I can't stay behind."  
Gwaine looked at him, evenly and completely sober.  
"I understand." with that he moved on. Arthur watched as Gwaine's arm was grabbed from the shadows by a slender, feminine hand. Arthur stiffened for a moment before realising the nature of this accost as Gwaine slipped into the shadows, embracing whomever it was.  
"Lancelot is a good man."  
Arthur diverted his attention from Gwaine's disappearance to the woman at his elbow.  
Gwenivere refused to look at Arthur, instead talking to a point off to his side.  
"I know." Arthur replied, a touch resentfully. He couldn't help it. He was but Human.  
"He's a good father to Arthur. His chivalrous, and kind. He can often get through to Merlin when the rest of us can't."  
Gwen looked up now, staring straight into Arthur's eyes, chin raised "I love him."  
Arthur looked down at Gwen, at the live of his life. As much as he hated it now, he knew that should he die, he would want to make sure that she was looked after. Cherished. If Lancelot could provide that...  
"I understand." he murmured softly. In one familiar action, he wrapped an arm around Gwen, pulling her close, enclosing her in a hug. It was completely platonic, and Arthur now realised this. This wasn't the woman he loved. Too much had happened and it had happened without him. Gwen had moved on and he didn't blame her.  
"It's okay." he whispered into her hair, kissing it gently before moving away and holding her at arms length.  
Looking at her slim form, taking in how she aged, cataloging the differences between her and his Gwen, he made a vie to ensure that Lancelot returned alive for her. It's the least he could do.  
"Thanks."  
She was looking at him in relief. She suddenly looked down as a small hand tugged her skirt.  
She bent down to pick up young Arthur. Suddenly, he wouldn't look at the child, he didn't want to. Not at such close proximity. But he made himself. He took in the shaggy blonde hair, the kid could do with a trim, the childish features whim fitting the sculpted feature that he would come to have and finally the big brown eyes, mirrored in the face of his mother.  
Suddenly he couldn't speak, leading to an awkward silence.  
"Arthur, meet Arthur." Gwen introduced them, "He's a friend of your fathers."  
Interest alighted in the lads eyes.  
"We all have the sane name," he noted, "You, me and Dad."  
Arthur didn't know why it surprised him so much that the child knew who his real father was, but it touched him in more ways than he could imagine.  
He found his voice, " Yeah, well, it got awful confusing."  
"Can you tell me about him." the innocent question took Arthur off guard.  
"Uh, sure, what do you want to hear about."  
"Something different. That others won't know. Mom tells me about his loyalty, Lance about his friends and Uncle Merlin tells me about how he was a clotpole."  
Arthur had to laugh at his sons use of Merlin's coinage.  
Strangely enough, he found himself recounting some tales of when he was a kid, of course from an outside perspective.  
At some point Gwen put the child down, leaving him alone to spend time with his son.

The battle was madness. It started well enough, Emrys led his men to Camelot under a cloak. The cloak was strong enough to shield even from Rex's third eye. The cloak dissolved in the courtyard when the band of twenty seven men attacked the guards.  
The element of surprise helped fell the immediate men, the ten of then dying instantly.  
The way left clear, the men followed Emrys who, clad in a dark cloak which rippled with the power at his disposal flew up the steps and through the castle. As a group, the dispatched all in their way, Emrys protecting a man from a blade which it past his guard. The youngest soldier of the group, Arthur, showed his superior training, holding his own.  
By the time they approached the main hall, Rex had gathered the forty remaining soldiers to stand as defence.  
These were backed by a tenth of Rex's sorcerers, twelve if them who produced shields and threw spells to harm.  
Emrys deflected these easily, but the sorcerers stood together to strength their shields.  
The previously organised group dissolved into chaos, lights flashing, swords crashing, men dying.  
Emrys killed the last sorcerer and found himself by the Great Doors that led into the throne room. Flanked unnecessarily by Lancelot and young Arthur, Emrys entered the hall.  
Opposing him, at the far end of the room was Rex. Lining the edges if the room were his other sorcerers, all one hundred and two of them. All of varying strengths in power, all lending that power to their tyrant.  
Trx flicked a wrist to send the men flying across the room, but Emrys shielded them, gasping t te sheer power used.  
From a pouch at hi belt, he withdrew the Crystal of Dryathiad. He began chanting in a low voice, filled with the power of a warlock and a Dragonlord.  
The room reverberated with power and the Crystal thrummed a deep purple.  
Emrys' eyes shone a brilliant gold, brighter than ever, lined with purple.  
It became a battle of wills that lasted for less than a second as Emrys' crushed Rex's and the tyrant crumpled to the floor, dead.  
His power scattered back to it's owners, which scared, lashed out.  
Emrys didn't bother to block, the spells just dissipated on his shield.  
He was formidable, a flick of the wrist felled a dozen sorcerers.  
The lights in his eyes and in the crystal began to fade as he dealt with the remaining sorcerers.  
All that power did not make him more than human. And a human is fallible. One of the sorcerer didn't aim for him, but for the man he recognised as the Once and Future King.  
Before I could intercede, the man known as Lancelot threw himself in the line of fire.  
The spell threw him like a ragdoll across the room. He hit the wall with a sickening crack and stilled instantly.  
In a roar of anger and a surge of purple, Emrys ended the spell caster and all those besides. All the men fighting still fighting outside the room were caught in Emrys' anger and died instantly, leaving their opponents shaking with exertion and relief.  
Emrys' hold on the Crystal slipped and the power deserted him, sending him to his knees.  
Only so much power can be held by one man. While Rex had been directing his circles power, he had been but a conduit, never hosting too much for his body to handle.  
Emrys on the other hand knew when h set out on his search the risks of using the Crystal of Dryathiad. It magnifies magic, and as Emrys already had a sizeable store of power, it overwhelmed him.  
The magic had consumed the vessel and as Emrys slipped to the floor, only the traces of his old magic, soon to fade, were keeping him alive.  
Young Arthur ran to Merlin's side from Lancelot's, holding back tears at the death of his friend and Gwenivere's source of support and happiness.  
He knelt at the Warlock's side in time to see the last flicker of light leave his eyes.  
He had seen what he needed to see.  
The survivors had begun to filter into the hall as I made myself known.  
I approached Young Arthur from the front, Emry's body between us.  
The King-to-be didn't look up at me, keeping his eyes on his friends future body.  
"Is this it?" the boy snarled, "Is this what you wanted me to see?"  
I nodded, but he didn't look up to see me, so I said, "Yes."  
He looked up, his blue eyes tinged red, "Bring them back."  
I didn't respond, knowing that the request was impossible. What had happened here was meant to be.  
The boy spoke a again, his voice rising in volume, "You're an Angel! Bring them back!"  
"I can't."  
"Can't or won't?"  
I considered this for a moment.  
"If I could, I wouldn't. This was what was set to happen."  
Young Arthur stood, his jaw set angrily.  
"This," he waved his hand to gesture at the bodies and now the men clustered in the doorway, watching, "Cannot be what the future holds. This, is by natural."  
"There are many versions of the future," I countered carefully, "many different versions. But if you continue on the course you are on, they all end like this."  
"I will not betray my father!" the boy yelled.  
I admire loyalty. I really do. Loyalty defines a person. But there are consequences. I have considered over the past few days since receiving this mission the consequences of being told for the greater good to be disloyal to my Father. The very thought tastes foul in my vessels mouth. I have no idea how I act, my very soul reacts against the idea of betrayal.  
However, if obeying Him or my brothers resulted in the deaths of hundreds, I would be torn.  
I cannot conceive what we are asking of this child, but it must be done.  
"But you will prevent this from happening." I told the young boy with certainty.  
And I knew he would. I reached out with two fingers and took us back to his time.

**A/N Feedback please.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin OR Supernatural.**

* * *

One moment, Arthur was kneeling next to the body of his old friend as it lay lifeless, still warm on the floor. The next he was on the rich carpet that lay in his room.

A fire flickered in the grate, simultaneously warming the room and throwing drastic shadows against the wall. The room was how he'd left it, what felt like an age ago, the bed and blankets disturbed where he had tossed and turned, the tray Merlin had left on the table was still there. Merlin. Merlin's body was no longer beside him.

The room seemed to belie everything that had happened. Nothing had changed, it might as well have been a dream.

Except Castiel stood before him, looking at him emotionlessly, eyes slightly narrowed.  
Charging to his feet, Arthur shoved the figure against the wall and surprisingly the angel let him.

"What the Hell?" Arthur growled into his face.

After a beat of silence during which Arthur prepared to shake the silent angel, Castiel replied.

"We are back in your time. It's barely a few hours after I took you."

"What?"

Arthur couldn't define the feeling raging inside him. He'd just seen his best friends die. For that brief moment he'd forgotten that they weren't the people he knew, and despair had ripped through him. Without life animating his face, Merlin had looked unnatural, waxy and fake. It didn't really register that he was dead. Arthur had been expecting the waxy mask to crack and for Merlin to grin that idiot grin of his. The cold, magic Merlin of a few hours ago suddenly was inconsequential. Arthur would take him over that corpse in a heartbeat.

And Lancelot! He'd made a promise to return him to Gwen. He'd failed. Not only had he lost a friend, but he'd failed her.

Arthur stood back, releasing his strangle hold on Castiel, backing away until he hit the bedpost.

Castiel hadn't spoken throughout his mental turmoil, instead allowing the feelings to reach their natural conclusion. Arthur felt numb and drained.

Castiel stepped forward, the fire flickering across his face, making him look more forbidding as shadows lined his features. He then tilted his head, exposing it fully to the light and suddenly, he was less threatening. One could mistake him for a normal man.

"That is what is destined should you continue along this path. You know how to prevent it."

Castiel assesses the man before him, but Arthur still in shock was unable to formulate a reply.

"Your friends are not dead. Here they live. They will continue to do so should you take the throne."

"Blackmail." Arthur managed to hiss, angrily.

Another pause, "No. Fact."

With that and a flurry of wings, he was gone.

Arthur sank onto his bed, his head in his hands, his thoughts chasing themselves around his head. After what seemed like a lifetime sat there, Arthur couldn't have slept even had he wanted to, light weakly began to make itself known around the edge of the curtain. It was dawn. Arthur suddenly realised that he was still dressed in the clothes and armour the rebels had given him. They were proof that it wasn't a disturbed dream.

Merlin couldn't find him like this. He quickly changed into his own clothes, noticing instantly the difference in quality between the fabrics and kicked what he'd shed under his bed.

He'd barely done this when Merlin marched in.

Arthur's breath caught as he saw the manservant, alive, his face full of colour. The man's eyes widened.

"You're dressed!"

No formality, no hidden agenda.

"I'm not incompetent." he cut across Merlin's quip, "I can dress myself."

"Right." Merlin drew out the syllable, scepticism dripping from the word.

Arthur grabbed his pillow and flung it at his friend, slipping easily into their pattern.

Merlin caught it in one hand, using the other to place Arthur's breakfast on the table.

"Someone's in a better mood today." he commented glibly, Arthur chose to ignore the dig.

"Right, I need you to prepare my armour."

Merlin frowned. "Why? The knights aren't training today."

"Because Mer-lin, I'm in the mood for drilling." And I need to take out my frustration out on something. Nothing better serves that purpose than a training dummy. I need to think. "And because I said so."  
With that dismissal, Merlin left the room, taking the old tray, leaving Arthur with his food.

Arthur stared after him, already noticing the cheery atmosphere brought by Merlin's presence stilling with his absence.

Arthur didn't move for a moment, his thoughts wholly with Merlin, comparing him with the man he was apparently destined to be. Withdrawn. Forbidding. A Sorcerer.

He wouldn't wish that upon anyone, especially his friend. Especially Merlin. It seemed impossible for anything to be able to quash the sheer vitality that was Merlin, but it happened. He had to prevent that. Yes, Merlin had managed to fight that final battle with the power, but what good power would take the life of an innocent? If he did it right, Merlin wouldn't have to use magic, no one would.  
Lancelot wouldn't be dead. Gwen wouldn't be alone. His son wouldn't be fatherless. None of them would be forced to hide as rodents in the woods. Merlin would never sink to and be corrupted and destroyed by magic.  
He stared at the door that his friend had left through, making a silent vow.

_I will prevent that._

* * *

**A/N And there we have the conclusion.**

**I apologise for the delay but I got tied up in essays and NaNoWriMo. Believe it or not, I actually had this written the day after I posted the last chapter, but Things which have led to me posting this in celebration of my final essay handed in.**

**This story is finished, but if I get enough positive reviews (I was a tad disappointed by the lack of response to the last chapter), in fact, I don't care if they're positive; if I get enough reveiws and/or interest, then I have formulated a couple of follow up cahpters, epilogues if oyu will which I can tie on to the end. One regarding Arthurs Coronataion and of his discovery of Merlin's magic, the other which would be the final one, set in the present day when Merlin and Arthur come up in conversation between Castiel and a couple Hunters some of us know and love.**

**Thanks to those who suppoterd the story, reviewing and offering feedback:**

**Steffi Hoffman**

**Evil E. Evil**

**Shouri**

**Dee**

**Felicity P**

**Fris Comyns**

**And a special thanks to ****xXMistressMadHatterXx who reviewed pretty much every chapter and gave an opinion on the the options I presented at the end of Chapter One regarding the cause of the whole plot.**

**Thanks to those who favourited and alerted this story, all the email notifications I recieved made me feel all popular.**

**PS, Just cause it's sorta over doesn't mean that I wouldn't appreaciate some form of feedback. If you feel so inclined, please review, I don't care if it's anoymous or if it's just a collection of punctuation marks that depict your opinions of the story.**

**I hope you enjoyed my first completed multi-chapter story**

**CJaMes12**


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